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memorial poem

rising moon has hid the stars
no prey am i of poor thoughts
the snow whispers about me
these be
days endeared to every muse
the shadows of the ships
it is true that you say the gods are more use to you than fairies
it was the autumn of the year
you are my companion
thou unrelenting past
a life on the ocean wave
i make my shroud, but no one knows

 



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